Long Pass Chronicles 02 - Canning the Center (25 page)

Trevor fingered his phone. Where was Jamal? Something had to be wrong.

Oesterberg paced in front of the class. “Today we’ll delve into Euler’s formula. I don’t anticipate you’ll grasp this immediately. Just be patient. We’ll address complex analysis first.”

Jamal’s face had looked so sweet when he said he wanted to be anyplace Trevor was. Funny how Trevor always stayed so independent, but the big guy had wormed his way into Trevor’s life and heart. Now it was hard to imagine being without him.

“We’re going to establish a relationship between the trigonometric functions and the complex exponential function.”

The phone vibrated, and Trevor jumped. Probably Ev calling back.

It buzzed again. He looked at the screen.
Bunny
. God! He got up and started toward the door.
Buzz
.

“Trevor, may I ask where you’re going?”

“Sorry, sir. An emergency.”

Buzz
.

“More of an emergency than learning Euler’s formula?”

“No, sir. I mean, yes, it is an emergency. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Grades will be determined by attendance and attention as much as homework.”

The buzzing stopped. Trevor stared down, and his hand tightened around the defenseless phone. If he called Bunny back, would he be there?

The phone buzzed again. Message.

He’d missed him. He looked up at Oesterberg through a soft haze and walked toward the white board. “What would you like? The Bernoulli notation?” He wrote it on the board. “This is Cotes but here’s what he missed.” He noted again. “Perhaps you want the complex number showing Euler’s formula as a means of conversion between Cartesian coordinates and polar coordinates.”

The professor stared at him, but he didn’t care. What the fuck was he doing here?

He wrote faster and faster. “Here’s the relationship to trigonometry.” He scrawled to the end of one board and started on another. “The topological interpretation.” More proofs flew across the board. “Using limit definition.”

He whirled on the professor. “Or maybe that isn’t sufficient?” He walked over to the auto-A problem and started notating as fast as the marker would move. His mind slipped into infinity as it always did when he played. He ran out of one marker and grabbed another so the proof started in blue and finished in green. Finally he slammed the marker onto the bottom of the board. “You’ll find that’s correct. I’ll expect the A.” He held up the phone. “I have an emergency and will return later. Thank you.”

He walked out of the class.

Bunny. Bunny. Please say something sweet
.

A big tree across the street from the class beckoned. He sat under it, held his breath, and retrieved the message.

“Hi, Trev. Uh, sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been real busy.”

No, bad.

Jamal sounded breathless. “Boogie nearly drowned, and the first regular game is coming, and it’s out of town so I’ll be traveling. I thought about it a lot and I just couldn’t do it. I love football, and I don’t have the guts to make waves that big. I’m so sorry to be a coward. So I’ll be traveling and all, and I’ll try to call you when I get back.” He paused. A sound.
Was he crying? Was the bunny crying? No. No.
“I’m sorry.” The message ended.

Frozen. No breath. No heartbeat.

In his life, Trevor had put off a lot of guys. He knew dumping when he heard it.

No, Bunny. Please. No
.

There had to be another way to take it. There had to be. None he could think of.

What did they promise him to make him dump you?

Come on, idiot, he never made you any promises. You’re just a weird oddity. A diversion. Not a forever guy. You always knew that.

The tears seeped from his eyes.
Shit. No crying
.

The tears wouldn’t stop.

He jumped up and ran, tears flying off his cheeks like a windshield wiper was clearing them. Two blocks later, breathing like a freight train and crying like the fucking skies of the rain forest, he grabbed his bike from the rack, stumbled on, and took off pedaling like a madman. It took fifteen minutes and one near collision with a BMW, but he pulled into the lot of his mother’s hospital. He locked the bike to a railing and ran inside.

The nurse at the front station looked up. “Mr. Landry.”

He held up a hand, wiped his cheeks with the other, and ran down the hall. At his mother’s door, he stopped.
No dress. Shit
. He didn’t care. He pushed in.

From the side, he could see his mom faced the TV, her head lolled against the back of the chair. Seeing her made tears flow faster. The only person who’d ever loved him, and she didn’t even remember.

He took a step forward. No movement. He peeked. Her eyes were closed.
Good
. With soft steps, he crept up beside her and sank to the floor by her chair, gently placing his head in her lap. “Mommy.”

She smelled like old roses and disinfectant. His tears fell onto her dress.
Oh, Bunny, Bunny.

“Trevor? Is that you?” Her hand touched his hair.

“What?” He looked up, startled. “Mommy?”

Her eyes focused on his face. “Why are you crying?”

This had to be a dream. Wish fulfillment. “I lost someone I love.” The words came out before he could call them back. He listened to their echo in the room.

Slowly, she touched her heart with her fingers and shook her head. “No. Never lost.”

Water rained down his face. Had she said that? Did she mean it? “Mommy. I love you.”

A moment hung in the air.

The frown carved her face and his heart in two. “What? Who are you? Why are you touching me? Get away.”

He leaped to his feet. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. I just came to clean a spot on the carpet.”

“Leave me alone.” Her voice rose. “No.”

A female orderly he’d never seen before rushed into the room. “It’s okay, Mrs. Landry. I’m here.” She scowled at Trevor and spoke softly. “You’re upsetting her, and your brother doesn’t want you here.”

He backed up. “Where’s Elmer?”

“Gone. Your brother saw that he was fired.”

“It’s not right to take away her friends and keep her only visitor away.”

“Just leave and don’t come back. Your brother’s getting a restraining order against you.”

“He can’t do that.”

Her smile froze his voice. “He can. One of the techs says he saw you running around in here in a dress. Whenever you visit, she talks about seeing you in your lovely ‘frocks.’ Your brother says you’re a pervert and you can’t be trusted around an ill woman.”

“My brother doesn’t care about her. He just wants to make me miserable.”

“He’s the responsible party. He can decide.”

The responsible party.
More than you can say about yourself, Landry.
“She’s my mother. I love her and she loves me.”

“She doesn’t remember if she ever loved anyone. Now leave.”

He took one last look at his mother’s vacant face. The only one who’d ever loved him—and now there were none.

In the hall, he stopped, horror and amazement warring in his heart.
Doesn’t remember. Responsible party. Never lost.

The sun shone brilliantly, but it looked like fog as he rode all the way back to his apartment.
Never see Mommy again. Never again. Never lost
. He carried the bike up the stairs, staring at each tread. Mrs. Ramirez must be cooking cabbage again.

In his room, he hung up the bike and collapsed on the daybed. His head hurt from the inside out.
Mommy
. Now she had nothing.
No one
.

Tears seeped from his eyes.
Mommy’s alone. No memory. No hope.

His eyes flew open.

Stop it!
Stop it, you hopeless, ridiculous coward! You may be a freak, but the universe gave you one of the best fucking brains on earth. Use it
.

He sat up and stared at his computation wall. His brain clicked. As things stood, he might never see Jamal or his mother again. But if he didn’t, if he accepted the status fucking quo, it wouldn’t just break his heart. No, it would leave Jamal in Arondel’s hands and his mom with Rance, a man who basically hated her.
Not acceptable. Not fucking acceptable
.

What could he do? Weirdo piece-of-shit that he was.

He got up and started scribbling proofs on the wall. His mom was his. Not his father’s, not Rance’s. It was about time he became what he should have been all along—the responsible party.

Jamal wanted to play football. Apparently more than all other things. That was Bunny’s dream, so that’s what Trevor wanted for him, but not in the hands of that snake.

His hands shook, and he tightened them into fists. Jamal had been a gift. How would Trevor have ever known he could love someone besides his mother if it hadn’t been for the bunny?
Never lost
. Love didn’t end. Like everything in the universe, it just changed.

He sucked in a shuddering breath as he notated one of Einstein’s proofs on the wall.

Jamal could have his dream, play football, and have that shine he got in his eyes when he talked about the game. Jamal hated making waves. Trevor understood that.
God knows, I’ve been lying my whole life to avoid the truth.
But not the way things are now.

He took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

Chapter 16

N
O
, G
OD
,
no
. Jamal hurled Ferdinand against the wall of his bedroom. No, their bedroom. The place he should be living with Trevor.
Make it be different
. He clicked the message again.

“Hi, Jamal. I got your message, and I really understand.” Trev gave a little laugh. Totally phony. “If we’d never met, if Trixie had never walked into that parking lot, you’d be a big hero right now and not have this world of hurt I know I put you in. Whatever were we thinking? Talk about two people who should have known better. Funny, I’m supposed to be this big genius and all. Anyway, it was fun and—” His voice faltered, and he cleared his throat. “You play football and I’ll do whatever the fuck it is I do, okay? I enjoyed knowing you. You’ve got way too much to lose. You’ve got it all, big man. Remember that and don’t be tossing it away anymore. Okay? Bye, Bunny.”

Jamal stared at the phone in his hand. The green line said the message ran out. No more. No “just kidding.” No “I hate you for dumping me, you son of a bitch.” No “I love you.”
I love you, Bunny
.

One finger pressed the stop button even though it was done.
All done
. Water splashed on his finger.
What?
Another drop. He raised his hand to his chin and felt the water collecting. Tears? When had he cried last? Oh shit, he remembered.

His body folded, and he crumpled to the floor. The wood hit harder than grass. Harder than linebackers. Harder than hate.
Black, black, black is the color of my true love’s hair.

Trevor’s true love. Jamal had hoped so much those words were about him. Now Trevor said, “Whatever were we thinking?” Now he said it was fun.

With a moan, he grabbed his belly and rolled.
What the fuck is wrong with you? You just got exactly what you asked for.
What the fuck had he hoped? That Trevor would run over and say, “I love you. Don’t leave me. I don’t care about school or anything but you”? Yeah, that’s exactly what he’d hoped. Now he didn’t hope, he knew. Trevor was gone. Jamal had set the terms, and Trevor accepted them without a fight.

He dragged his body up until his head rested on his knees. This was how it looked when you got what you wanted.

J
AMAL
PICKED
himself up off the playing field. Every muscle, shit, every cell hurt. He slammed a hand against his helmet and listened to the ringing. The big sound kept the demons at bay. The demons that whispered, “Two weeks. Two weeks without Trevor. Without hope.”

One more time on the line of scrimmage. The linebackers growled. Jet called the play; Jamal snapped and faced the onslaught. Two linebackers ran toward Jet, which meant toward Jamal.
Yeah, good
. He plowed forward and met them head-on. Freight trains paled by comparison.
Slam
. Rhinos meeting horn to horn. Pain seared through his shoulder, up his neck and into his head. The taste of blood in his mouth meant he’d forgotten his mouth guard and probably bitten his tongue. It tasted good.

He’d barely touched the ground before he jumped up. Heat filled his chest. This was what they talked about. The feeling of hate that lineman got to keep them going. He usually pumped joy, but not today. If he could kill the opposing defense, he’d fucking consider it. Back to the line.

Jet gripped his shoulder. “You okay, man?”

He shrugged him off and took his position.

The linebackers stared at him out of the dark of their helmets like hounds of hell. Jamal gripped the football.